


Holding on

by FreddieFoxBaxter



Series: TK Strand Week 2020 [5]
Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Angst, Hurt TK Strand, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Addiction, mention of drug use, mention of relapsing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27422200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreddieFoxBaxter/pseuds/FreddieFoxBaxter
Summary: His stomach tightly knotted, TK dryly swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. His fingers twitched on the wheel, the need for a fix rumbled from the back of his mind, he needed it that night.
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Series: TK Strand Week 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1997548
Comments: 1
Kudos: 102





	Holding on

**Author's Note:**

> **TK Strand Week 2020**  
>  **Day 5:** "Can I sleep here tonight?" + hurt/comfort
> 
> I’m sorry, I can’t get angstier than this.

Hair still damp after a long shower, TK threw on an old hoodie as he rushed down the stairs. He had no real destination in mind, he just knew he couldn't stay at the station that night. He ignored the concerned glances on his way out, his stride too decisive to be stopped, and then he was out in the open.

He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath hoping it would calm the racing of his heart.

It didn't.

Fragments of the last call played in his mind over and over again; the smell of burnt flesh, ashes irritating his eyes to the point tears ran down his cheeks, the heart-wrenching sound of a building collapsing on itself. He got out of there just in time, searching for his dad and the team through the crowd of firefighters and paramedics. Only after laying his eyes on every single one of them, he managed to breathe again.

Every time he closed his eyes he could hear the screaming and the sirens with a tight grip on his guts. Not even the worst scene he intervened at, but this one hit differently.

He didn't need to eat, he didn't need to sleep, he just needed to get away from there.

The light traffic on the streets allowed him to sprint out of the parking lot. The city lights blurred into each other outside the windows when TK sped up after the intersection leading north. He aimlessly drove around town, tears running down his face and the phone buzzing on the seat beside him. He stopped in the parking lot of a restaurant to send his dad a message, reassuring him and asking for space. The phone stopped buzzing after that.

His stomach tightly knotted, TK dryly swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. His fingers twitched on the wheel, as his mood darkened; the need for a fix rumbled from the back of his mind, he  _ needed  _ it that night, he knew it would make it all go away.

TK stopped his car once again, grasping his fingers on the wheel, nails scratching the rubber, eyes closed, taking deep breaths. A dose would make him feel better, that much he could admit to himself, but it would also drag him back to the bottom of the barrel he worked so hard to get out of. Despite reminding himself of all the progress he made in the last few months, the need overwhelmed him, crushing all the air out of his chest. The circle around his head got tighter, and TK punched the wheel out of frustration.

He was spiraling down. He could see that. Alone, he feared he would make a mistake that could cost him everything. Without even realizing it, he was back on the road, the engine roaring as he gave gas. That part of town didn't feel familiar, and he had to drive several minutes before he found something he recognized; a tiny corner shop he and Carlos went into that time a sudden downpour caught them off guard.

All the lights were off at Carlos' place when he parked the car in his driveway. TK sighed, his heart sinking in his chest. He hadn't heard from him all day and didn't think to check before dropping at his place.

He still got out of the car, a stubborn drop of hope in his heart. He needed something to go right, he deserved it.

Playing with the string of his hoodie, he waited, finger crossed, for Carlos to open the door. He knocked a second time, harder this time, refraining himself from ringing the bell, if Carlos was already asleep he didn't want to wake him up.

The grip on his chest melted as soon as the door opened.

“TK?” Carlos mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“Hi,” he whispered in response, the waves of relief overwhelming him, stopping him from greeting him more properly.

“Are you ok?”

“I - not really, no.” 

TK lowered his gaze, sure he would burst into tears if he looked into Carlos' eyes. He sighed, twisting his lips in a crooked smile.

“I know you said you wanted to take things slow, but –  **can I sleep here tonight** ? I don't – I – ”

Carlos gently squeezed his arm. “Of course, come in,” he said, pulling him closer, wrapping him in a warm embrace that had TK sobbing.

“Shh,” Carlos whispered, “it'll be alright.”

His hand delicate as he caressed his back, in a soothing gesture, his t-shirt soaking up TK's tears, Carlos made no comment as he closed the door behind them, patiently waiting for TK to stop sobbing enough to explain what upset him so much.

“I'll be right back, ok?” Carlos said after leading him inside the house to make him sit on the couch. He rubbed his eyes, ashamed of his behavior.

“I didn't want you to see me like this,” he whispered when he heard Carlos coming back into the room.

“Don't worry about me, I can handle this.”

Carlos kneeled before him, offering a bottle of water and a change of clothes.

“I thought you might want something more comfy to sleep in,” he shrugged in response at TK's frown; he waited for him to change before gently rubbing his hair dry with a towel.

TK's heart flickered at the faint scent coming from the new t-shirt, so unmistakably Carlos' it made him feel better.

“I heard about the fire at the meatpacking plant,” Carlos warily, “some colleagues were on the scene, they said it was hell.”

TK shivered. “It was. We barely got half the workers out – it was... awful, you think you get used to this kind of things but – you don't – ”

Carlos' fingers hesitated for a moment. “I'm so sorry,” he whispered, before sitting beside him to put his arm around his shoulders; TK buried his face in the crease of his neck, his eyes finally dry. He sighed, exhausted, melting into Carlos' arms. Instead of awkward, the silence between them comforted TK. Carlos didn't try to make him feel better with some empty words, because he understood that sometimes words mean nothing, sometimes the things he saw on the job required a moment of silence as he took on his shoulders the tragedies happening all around him. Nothing Carlos could say would make him feel less pain, but the comforting warmth of his presence meant the world. It made him feel less alone, like a beacon of light in the middle of a storm.

He waited for TK to stop shivering, gently stroking his hair and shoulder before speaking again. “I think we should go to bed and try to sleep for a few hours.”

TK nodded without a word, taking the hand Carlos was holding out for him.

“I didn't mean to wake you up,” he said seeing his bed undone, the sheets thrown on the side.

“It's ok, TK, I wasn't sleeping anyway,” Carlos replied, laying down beside him; given his hesitation, TK turned to wrap his arms around his waist, needing him close. Carlos snorted, nuzzling in his hair as he hugged him back.

“You shouldn't worry about this kind of things, you know I'm here for you.”

“I know,” TK finally sighed, “I just wished I wasn't always such a mess.”

At that, Carlos hugged him tighter. “I care about you, nothing you do can change that.”

His heart raced at Carlos' comment, a soft buzzing that didn't calm down until he fell asleep still in his arms.


End file.
